One of the things that seemed most daunting during my twin pregnancy was breastfeeding. I knew I wanted to at least attempt to nurse both of my babies. I had spoken to enough brave, strong women who had done so and encouraged me. I had been through the wringer with Silas, but I had learned a thing or two since then, so I knew I wanted to give it a go.
Breastfeeding two newborns is not for the faint of heart. The first night in hospital was fine because I was still on a high. The second night, the babies wanted to cluster feed — eat non-stop. That is difficult with one baby, but with two, for lack of a better word, it’s hell. I didn’t sleep, and although the babies were latching pretty well, I was in a lot of discomfort.
Sometime in the middle of that second night, nurses weighed the babies and found they had each lost nearly 10 per cent of their body weight. While this is quite common, it was enough that I needed to consider supplementing them with formula.
The nurse asked me if I had anything against using formula. I said no, so she brought some in the room and showed me how to get started. She also arranged for a lactation nurse to come visit us to help us figure out a new system.
Although this made perfect sense at the time, emotionally, I was crestfallen. As soon as the nurse left the room, I fell into a mess of tears. I tried to explain it to Mark as though it was like someone told me I wasn’t able to care for my babies on my own. Of course that wasn’t true, but it’s how I felt.
Of course, at that moment, I was going through the typical low feelings many mothers feel during the days after childbirth, known as the baby blues. You go from riding the wave of bringing a new life into the world, to feeling like the worst mother on earth, all in the matter of hours. Or at least that’s how I felt. Times two.
My family doctor, Dr. Ross, who is wonderful, came to visit me and the babies around the same time as my OB, Dr. Patterson. I was crying and couldn’t control it, and I felt so embarrassed. I felt disappointed that I, an experienced mother, could not produce enough on my own to feed my babies. While it’s true that there wasn’t enough for those little baby boys in the early hours, I didn’t realize that with help, I could produce enough — and I would! All I thought was my hopes of feeding the boys on my own had been quashed.
I know this all may seem silly. Just give them a bottle already! But it’s hard to explain how important this was to me. It almost felt primal.
Luckily, we had Rayma from the Saint John Regional Hospital’s Mother/Baby Clinic. She came to my room and noticed tears were at the surface. “This is your sad day,” she said. She allowed me to have it. Then I would be on my way to bringing two healthy baby boys home!
Rayma showed us a way to nurse and bottle feed each baby followed by a pumping session for me. It was rigorous and needed to be done every three hours. But with another person, it could all be done under an hour. And the best part was, with formula filling their tummies, that babies would sleep well between feedings.
Formula was all new to me, but my husband and mother-in-law actually loved being a part of their early feedings. For weeks, we meticulously kept track of how much they ate, how long they nursed, what time and what was in their diapers. We returned to the mother/baby clinic every day for a week following the twins’ births. While it was annoying to pack up the babies and go to the hospital every day, it was so much better than staying there. Rayma patiently answered all my questions about the pump, which intimidated me. We adjusted the babies’ top-ups daily based on how much they were gaining and taking from me.
One day I remember leaving the clinic and Rayma was on the phone providing updates to Dr. Ross. My doctor must have asked Rayma if we handling everything OK as parents. Rayma, “They’re rocking this thing, being twin parents.” It made me smile, even though I was still scared as hell, and I think Mark was too.
Eventually we were allowed to bring a scale home, so we could continue daily weigh-ins without having to trek to the hospital. It became a numbers game. We could figured out exactly how much a baby took in breastmilk by weighing them before and after a feeding, then determine exactly how much they needed in formula. Then, I would pump to continue to build supply. Every time I pumped, I would set aside that milk for the next feeding.
Rayma was my lifeline. She called to check in every day, even on Thanksgiving weekend. I looked forward to her call. She made me feel secure in what we were doing, and that my babies were going to be OK.
Eventually the top-ups were all breast-milk instead of formula. That’s when we knew we didn’t need the formula anymore.
“Go home and feed your babies,” Rayma said. It was music to my ears. Especially the idea of not having to be hooked up to a machine every three hours. But I was cautious. I knew it meant we would be off our three-hour schedule, and back to “on-demand” since we would no longer know exactly how much they getting during a nursing. That also meant cluster-feeding would likely be back in the picture (so exhausting!).
Through the same period, Rayma was encouraging me to tandem feed whenever possible. This means feeding the babies at the same time, holding one under each arm like a football, resting on a big pillow surrounding my body. It was intense, but the most efficient way to go. Tandem feeding on demand meant I was back to taking on feeding my babies on my own, which was great, but also exhausting.
So our breastfeeding journey was over the first hump. The babies were gaining well, healthy and at home. While it was surely a beautiful thing, my stress didn’t waver. We still had a three-year-old to entertain and care for, and I still wasn’t sleeping much. I knew it would get better, but it was still so hard. Especially when I couldn’t get the babies to sleep other than on my chest, and Silas starting waking in the night demanding my attention, refusing to settle down with his father.
Yes, we were in the thick of it, still. Parenting 2.0.